Resident Evil :: Genesis
by CaptainSkittlez
Summary: Umbrella reformed. The good guys defeated. Supremecy of the world is inches away for Umbrella, but familier faces stand in their way. The agents Umbrella forgot... The goodbad guys. Chapter 2 and 3 up, and a few surprises. This may become a DMCxRE crossov
1. Prolouge

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Resident Evil or the characters, organizations and anything else found in the games or books, it belongs to Capcom and S.D Perry respectively. Nor do I own any brand names that are mentioned either. **

**A/N: **This is my first RE fan fiction don't treat it too harshly, though flames are welcome. The characters here are some from previous RE games that have in fact died, but try to ignore that fact. C'mon people, its fan fiction!

The green eyes stared back at her accusingly as she fastened the holster to her leg. The cold metal buckle holding the straps together pressed against her bare thigh, sending a shiver up her spine. She slipped her hand gun into the holster and twirled elegantly, watching herself in the full-sized mirror as her dress slipped over the gun hiding it. She smiled to her reflection, who still stared back, mimicking her actions perfectly. She allowed her hand to waver over the scotch bottle for a moment, then shrugged and left it there. She moved to her dressing table, sitting before it like some star at a show, and looking at her young face in the oval reflective glass before her. She applied little make up, and when she did it was for formal occasions such as this one. Three years had passed since her last assignment with Albert Wesker, and in that she had failed him; although, he didn't know that. The sample she had sent had been a fake, and Ada Wong prized herself on that. The organization had recently bought up Harvard Chemical Foundation, and Ada recently found out that Wesker, in the long run was working for the Organization. She smiled to herself in the mirror, stood and turned towards the door of her hotel room. She wrenched it open and walked out into the open, her hips swaying as she did.

The walk down the corridor didn't put her off much, nor did the fact that she was going to a prestigious ball. Though, that was a bad term. During a court case, the multi-billion air company, Umbrella had been reopened. The Umbrella was unfurled once more, and Ada Wong was going to scope out the party. She walked down stairs and out of the swinging doors and nodded to the bell man, who clicked his fingers. A black limousine pulled up and Ada smiled broadly. Wesker certainly did know how to treat a lady, Ada thought as she climbed in gracefully.

"Hello, ma'am; my name is James Mortimer and I'll be your driver tonight."

Mortimer? That name sounded so familiar. Ada looked through to the front of the limousine and saw smiling back at her, a brown haired man who struck her as looking remarkably like Tom Cruise. She cocked her head to one side, frowning a little. He looked so familiar, apart from looking like tom Cruise. His hair fell down to his shoulders and he had the starting of a beard forming about his face. He grinned, realising her thoughts.

"I was a bit more blood covered when we last met. Twice now, we've been in the same helicopter Ms. Wong. You may know me as Mr. Death, or even HUNK."

Ada clicked and she smiled. First a limousine and now one of the most deadly killers hired by the Organization; all to take her to her destination. She wondered if she'd be asking for to much to see if he would also be accompanying her to the dance.

'Well, Cinderella… you will go to the ball.'

The man grinned and spread his arms out as the black car pulled up in front of him. The door opened some how, even though the only occupant was sat on the side furthest from it. Deciding not to press the matter further, he stepped towards the limousine and extended a gloved hand. A tanned one met his and he helped Ada from the car, in a gentlemanly fashion though she didn't need any help from him. She stopped as she saw him.

"I thought you were dead."

"Go figure," he replied with a smile. "I'll be you date this evening Ms. Wong."

"Wonderful. I was looking for a man to appreciate me and instead got one obsessed with himself."

"Now, now Ms. Wong; there's no need to be jealous of natural beauty."

She sighed and accompanied him inside, hanging to his arm like a good woman should at such occasions. She sighed to herself as she moved inside and stepped into the wide open area, spiting the return to Umbrella. At the top table sat three men and a woman. She recognized one of the men instantly, and she glared.

"What's she doing here?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean Ms. Fongling? Well, she helped Mr. McGivern rebuild Umbrella."

"Fuck… I need a drink, Duvall, lets go find a waitress."

So, arm in arm with the white haired Morpheus Duvall she walked across the room to the drinks area. Literally downing three whiskey shots without so much as a word, she stared around the room.

"So, when's the party gonna crash?"

Morpheus shot her a smile and indicated the massive window behind the four delegates who run Umbrella Inc. She smiled and reached to her thigh, unclipping the safety catch. She waited and heard Morpheus utter 'Go'. All hell broke loose.

Through the door they came charged Hunk leading a group of men in UBSS suits, and through the window crashed Prototype Beta, the second form of Tyrant. The beast crashed down behind the four delegates and slammed a fist through Bruce McGivern. Fongling raised a hand and cried out, but Ada began her run. She kicked a waiter aside and snatched up his tray, throwing it at Fongling. The woman was knocked from her feet as the Tyrant swung at her. She stared at Ada and smiled her thanks… until a bullet smashed into her face, ending her life in a split second. Morpheus was beside her, a magnum revolver in his hand. He quickly shot the third delegate and aimed at the fourth, but the Tyrant stepped into the shot. Morpheus cursed and waited. The Tyrant wasn't attacking! It turned slowly and the fourth delegate appeared at its side.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Raymond Spencer… He's the last surviving heir of the Spencer name."

The man chuckled and pointed at Ada and Morpheus directly. His suit was a crème white and his boots black. His tie was red and had fluff about the corner, like an old 17th century jacket. Ada scoffed at his apparent lack of any fashion sense.

"Kill them… Both of them."

Ada gasped and Morpheus swore. Tyrant advanced on them, its huge claw rising. It was dressed in a leather trench coat, and had the usual lips cut away. Both eyes were intact and his head was shaved. He stopped a few feet away, and glared at them.

"It's gonna charge!"

Morpheus raised the magnum and blasted off a shot that took the Tyrant in the face. Ada snapped into action a second later and shot the thing dead in the chest. Suddenly, an arm was on her shoulder and pulled her back, as with Morpheus. They stood behind seven heavily armed UBSS men. Hunk smiled at the Tyrant and raised a fist.

"Blow this bio-genetic freak to hell!"

As the machine gun fire poured onto the Tyrant, Morpheus folded his arms and pouted.

"I resent that."

Ada smiled and motioned for the exit. The nod was returned and the two set off. Even as they did a figure stepped from the door way, holding a berretta. Ada stopped dead and saw it was Spencer.

"You'll not get out of here alive, Ms. Wong. Or you, Duvall."

Morpheus raised the magnum, but a shot blasted it from his hands. He stared around wildly and saw a smiling man standing in the door way. He was huge, almost six and a half feet tall, with a red beret and an ammo strap across his chest and a desert eagle clamped tightly in his hands.

"Well, well... if it isn't the bitch in the red dress…"

"Krauser..."

The man advanced and Morpheus stared at him. He had read the file concerning Jack Krauser, and for a man who was shot to death and blown up, he as looking good.

"I thought you died on the island," Morpheus said, in a bored voice, as if he were discussing something like the weather. Krauser stopped and laughed giving a nod.

"When dear, Ada… huh… killed me she actually ripped Las Plagas from my body. It hurt… ohh… it hurt a lot! Mr. Spencer here saved me, however. I'm back, Ada… meaner, faster, stronger… a new man so to speak."

"Wonderful, Jacky-boy, now lets say we kill one another, huh?"

Spencer shook his head and smiled. He and Krauser stepped back and over the heads of Ada and Morpheus a shadow passed, crashing in front of them. Tyrant. Ada swore and raised her hand gun, as Spencer and Krauser walked out. Ada knew they'd have to deal with Tyrant, but not so soon. She saw Hunk standing pressing a gauze to his stomach, holding his machine gun in one hand.

"Bastard killed my squad. Good men… Ada, go. Blondie and I can take care of this thing."

Morpheus shot him a look at being called Blondie, but nodded to Ada. Ada, biting her lip for a moment, nodded and went over to the back of the room. She used her grapple-gun and was out the window. Morpheus sagged in relief.

"I was wondering when she'd leave. Stand back, Mr. Death."

Hunk nodded and kicked over one of the ornate tables, crouching behind praying that it was wooden. There was the sound of flesh being pulled and stretch and the guttural groaning and screeching of a man in pain. Hunk forced himself not to look, until the soft feminine voice rang over the area, the metallic tinge giving it that hint of pure terror.

"Okay, you test tube freak… Let's go!"

Morpheus Duvall had changed considerably in those few seconds between falling to the floor and rising back up. He was taller for one thing, now reaching the other tyrants shoulders at about seven feet tall. He was slimmer too, his face of a beautiful woman's and his body coated in a thick metallic hide. His, or _her_, or perhaps _its _body crackled with raw, unchecked electricity. His slender limbs were crackling and he raised a long arm trusting it forwards, fist curled into Tyrants face. The huge beast staggered at the blow, but thrust its own hand in retaliation, sending Morpheus reeling across the room. Morpheus flipped its feet and snatched up a metal pole lying on the ground. Well, a metal pole to him, but it was more like half a streetlight. He swung it at Tyrant, smashing the huge metal into its head. Tyrant staged as another blow hit its chest dead centre, missing its exposed heart by inches. The third blow crashed into its arm, and the fourth was caught clean in its right hand. He jerked it, gripping it tightly, and Morpheus grinned.

"Hey, Hunk, how do you like your Tyrant?"

"Deep-fried!"

"I was hoping you'd say that…"

Morpheus' body cracked with electricity again, its arms becoming white as they super-charged. Tyrant just stared blankly, wondering what was going on, right up until the same energy that powered Vegas ran through its body, coursing its atoms and tearing its molecular structure to pieces like being hit with super-charged electricity – which was exactly what was happening.

As Hunk moved around the table, he saw Morpheus standing back as a human in his pants and jacket, holding a deformed metal rod. It dropped to the floor wit a clang, and landed in slush and mess, which used to be a Tyrant.

"Shit… How'd you--"

"Never mind that; we need to go. Chopper?"

"On the roof, man."

The two of them ran over to the ornate elevator and got inside. As they pressed the button to go up, they could hear the sirens on the air. Morpheus smiled and Mr. Death merely stared. As they ran onto the roof, they caught site of the helicopter. Hunk was in first, Morpheus right behind him. The pilot turned, and Morpheus smiled. It was Ada.

"Where do you boy's wanna go?"

"Did they succeed?"

"Yes, the enemy Tyrant was destroyed by Agent Duvall."

"Excellent."

The two stared at one another across the table and it was obvious the animosity that existed there. The two hated each other, it was clear but neither would admit it. For to give into anger, and hate, required giving into passion. That was something, neither would ever do. The blond removed his sunglasses and sighed heavily.

"Intel tells us they're going for a European city. Most likely as small a one as they can, without spreading the Virus too much."

"I'll run a list, Albert. In the meantime, assemble your team. We need to be ready for Zero-hour."

Wesker nodded, and stood up from the table. He hated the man across from him, but the man was the only one with enough Intel and power to destroy Umbrella once and for all.

It was strange how Wesker was doing precisely what he had tried to stop Chris Redfield from doing those years previous. All those fights, battles and wars between the two and no one ever stopped to think how they must feel killing one another.

"We were friends once, Redfield… Where are you?"

**A/N:** Well, that's the prologue. Reviews are welcome (begs) and questions will be answer, though most likely only in the story.


	2. Chapter 1

_(A/N: Once again, I do not own Resident Evil games or books, thus any relation to them belong to SD Perry and Capcom respectively. I also don't own Reno and Rude of Final Fantasy seven, from whom the bodyguards, Alpha and Omega, are based off.)_

**Chapter 1: Infection**

"Sir! Everything is set for Viral Launch!"

"Very well. Await my command."

The small black clad man stared through round, black rimmed spectacles at the computerised screen of green lines tracing a see-through board that told him exactly what was going on. He traced a finger along the metal bar of his wheel-chair and smiled unpleasantly. He pressed down on his wheel chair arm, his bony finger depressing a single white button.

"Shall I give the order, sir?"

"_Yes,"_ was the immediate answer on the other end.

"Very well; fire."

The technician nodded and tapped at his keyboard, murmurs going up and down between each desk until someone said in a clear voice, that brought a smile to the lipless features of the wheel-chair bound man,

"Done. Launch was a success."

The man swivelled his wheel-chair, giving the technicians the briefest of nods, before he and his two guards got into the lift. He nodded at one of the men, who pressed down on a button. The lift doors closed, the device lifting its way through the countless floors of the facility. The breath of the man was ragged and plumes of steam were visible before him. He pressed down on his wheel-chair, allowing the blankets around him to heat up. The two body guards did not notice the change in climate; they were trained to ignore it.

As the lift rose and rose, the man thought to himself about he wonders that he would bring to the world through his research: the reanimation of dead cells and in all the ultimate creation of life. He couldn't help but smile, though that was a given to a man with no lips. He sighed happily to himself, and looked at his two tall bodyguards. The first was a bald man, of huge stature and strength, his dark brown eyes hidden below his sunglasses, which he wore religiously. He was a smart, tactful and well dressed man, his suit was primed and pressed, his shirt almost too white. The other was a shorter, but by no means weaker man, whose appearance was the opposite. He had long flowing red hair and his suit hung open carelessly. He smiled at his two body guards; these were some of the best men on the planet, and if they couldn't keep him safe, there was no one better that could.

As the elevator chimed open, the man brought the wheel chair out and his body guards were close behind. The Progenitor Virus that ran through their bodies kept them docile to orders from the man, and yet they were as human as anyone else in the facility. He stopped before a door, which opened at his command and he pushed himself inside. The two men waited outside.

The man stared at his desk, and lifted his laptop. He propped it up and began to type away. He remained like this for at least half an hour, and as his finger pressed down on the button that would send the file to the printer in the corner of his room his back stiffed, the air pushed from his lungs and he slumped to the desk, his head pressing against the cold metal of his laptop. He knife was withdrawn with ease and footsteps were the only noise made, and these were silent and careful. There was the quiet ruffling of papers, a short pull of a zip, more ruffling and the zip again, before a tiny grunt as who ever was once in the room, was suddenly outside.

Back in the hallway the two bodyguards stared straight ahead. One flinched suddenly and the other smashed a fist onto the alarm button. They withdrew their machine guns and the door to the room open, the lights coming on immediately. They caught sight of the black clad figure moving outside, the dead man and they one spoke into his wrist communicator,

"Father is dead. There is someone outside, permission to intercept?"

There was a brief rumble of static before the two bodyguards climbed out the window after the murderer. The cold winds did not bite their skin and the sheer might of the two men did something to protect them from the harsh gales. The other they followed was much the same. The red haired one frowned and the bald one nodded. They followed carefully. The ledge that the three figures hugged to was thin; only a foot or so out from the sheer cliff face. Suddenly, the figure leaped and caught onto the edge of the cliff above. There was an opening that led to the facilities heliport. The two bodyguards leaped after him, and rushed onto the heliport. There stood an assembly of the strangest figures the two virus-ridden men had ever seen. The tall one they were chasing pulled off his face mask to revel red and yellow eyes, with slick blond hair. There next to him stood a small, yet strong woman in combat gear, holding a long silver rifle. Next to her was a man in black leather with white hair, not even flinching in the cold winds and a team of HUNKs. The two brothers looked at one another, and slipped their guns away, raising fists. The blond cocked an eyebrow, but threw his gun to one of the HUNKs and stepped forwards.

His voice was quiet easily American but there was something else there that seemed sophisticated; a hint of a European accent, possibly German or Austrian. The tall white haired man nodded and stepped forwards. He had a long sword that ran down his back in a sheath. He crouched slightly, gripping it and stared malevolently at the red haired bodyguard, who slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled out a nightstick, which he extended with a flick of his wrist. It was longer and thicker than the standard and he stared back at the white haired Duvall.

Wesker's smile broadened as the bald one looked at him, cracking his knuckles. Wesker put on his own sunglasses and the two moved closer together. In a swift poesy technique the bald man assumed the style of French Kick-boxing, while Wesker simply moved into the style of ass kickery. He learnt to fight on the streets, not in some fancy gym. He balled his fists in front of him, feet apart slightly and flashed a grin at the stoic man.

The man launched a kick at Albert, which was blocked in the flutter of an eyelid, and Albert's fist flew for the bald man's face. To the surprise of the watchers, it was caught with ease and the two men struggled for a moment, before leaping back from one another. Albert stepped in, throwing a few punches, which were intercepted and thrown back. Albert blocked the blows with moderate ease and dropped to the floor, sweeping his feet out. The man leaped high and came back down on Wesker's extended foot. He stumbled back. First blow to Wesker. The two stared at one another for a moment, before launching across the helipad again, to duel.

Ada resisted the urge to try and shoot the bald man, though by the fact he was on the ground spitting up blood after fighting Wesker, she doubted the effects of a bullet anyway. Mr. Death put a hand on her shoulder and nodded in the direction of the red haired man and Morpheus.

Duvall was swinging the long Japanese sword with all the skills of one who had been training with it all his life and the red haired man responded with his nightstick in the same way. The two weapons clashed into one another reputedly and to the general dismay of the watchers, Duvall had failed to land a blow on the man. While Morpheus held a look of contempt on his face, it was met by a look of sheer enjoyment at the fight. The red haired man was enjoying the battle and Duvall was simply not responding. It was obviously angering the red haired killer, but he made no attempt to do anything foolish. Suddenly, the katana lanced for the gut of the red haired man who batted it aside with his nightstick.

The two opponents twirled away from one another, panting slightly. Morpheus raised a hand to his face and pulled down a bandana strapped about his head, covering his eyes. The red haired man raised an eyebrow, but followed suite with a torn piece of shirt, which he pulled off with ease.

On the sidelines, Mr. Death raised an eyebrow and looked at Ada who was just smiling to herself. He looked back at the two warriors, who were circling one another blind now.

"I don't understand. How can they fight like that?"

"Blind faith, Mr. Death."

"Mort."

"Huh?"

"My name's Mortimer, though everyone calls me Mort."

"I see."

Suddenly, the clashing of weapons was heard again at a much faster beat. Mortimer looked up at the clashing blows that the two were throwing against one another. He raised a hand to his helmet and spoke into it. There was a hushed conversation and finally he stared back at Ada with interest.

"Those two are the bodyguards of a scientist, probably the one Wesker gutted. They're both infected: G-T Virus and the Progenitor Virus at a massive level. It's not terminal and it's made them just like Wesker, but a bit more docile."

Ada nodded, understanding finally why the two of them were not falling to the relentless assaults of Wesker and Duvall. It made sense in a strange way, but it also troubled Ada. She handed her rifle to one of the HUNKs and crouched down, drawing her knife. She waited for the opportune moment and with a tiny outlet of air the weapon sailed through the air, where it was met by both sword and nightstick. The two warriors stepped back and Morpheus looked over.

"What?"

"Choppers here, Samurai Jack. We gotta jet."

The red haired man raised a hand in defiance, but machine gun bullets rattled his chest. Morpheus made to stop them but Wesker ran past dragging him by the collar.

"Move; this is retrieval not assault."

The two of them bounded into the helicopter after Ada and the HUNKs; the two body guards watched it leave and silently returned to the complex.

In the helicopter Wesker was staring at the black folder in his hands, which held the papers that he'd taken. The HUNKs at the cockpit for the helicopter were watching to make sure that no airborne pursuit would bother the team. Wesker turned around, looking at Ada and Morpheus. Not his full team yet, but it was a start. He'd have to start calling in favours. He needed a fuller team if they were going to go anywhere. Mr. Death lifted a helmet and put it on, talking, or rather, shouting into the mouthpiece to be heard over the din of the helicopter rotors, and motioned for Wesker to do the same.

"Wesker…"

"Ah, Albert; the launch went ahead, the virus was sent. Have you retrieved the papers?"

"Yes, we're bringing them to you now."

"Indeed you are. You have another two days Albert, then you're being sent in; team or no team."

Albert cut the connection there, not wanting to hear anymore. He sighed and looked over at Ada and Morpheus. Both had proved themselves worthy to be on his team and both were reading to bring down Umbrella. Though, Ada was more interested in bettering her own life and Morpheus was much too pleased to be keeping himself pretty.

Albert looked over at the HUNK team, namely Mr. Death. Death had been working under Albert for a long time. He had first worked for Morpheus, and then after Racoon, under Wesker directly. They were the perfect team really; hired killers with the moral values of rodents.

Ada watched him, her brow furrowed. Why was he looking so grim? He was a trained killer, there was quiet possibly no one like him on the entire planet, and he looked… afraid? No; perhaps not. What then?

"Sir? We're almost home."

Wesker nodded to the pilot and tucked the leaflets inside his jacket, nodding to Morpheus. The white haired man glanced up at him and nodded back. The chopper neared a ship, prowling the waters. It was huge, a tanker most likely, with a name stamped on its side.

_'The Second Coming'_.

Ada frowned, looking down at the mighty vessel as the helicopter came to land on the helipad. A team rushed forwards, opening the doors as Wesker and Morpheus leapt down. Morpheus instantly strode by and up towards the stairs leading to the high prow of the ship.

Ada turned to the blond Wesker, to find him marching off with the armed soldiers. She shot a glance at Death, who shrugged and eased off his chest armour, throwing it to an armoury guy, who smirked and stalked off with it.

"Hey, Dea—Mort!"

Death spun around, running his left hand over his right shoulder, wincing as he eased stiff muscles. He gave a quizzical glance, asking her what it was she wanted.

"Um, you know where Morpheus is heading?"

"Heh."

Death stopped rubbing his shoulder, giving it a jerk that made a fait popping sound. He unhooked his TMP, tossing it to the side where it stuck the metal with a faint _clink_ and shrugged.

"I dunno. Whitey goes where ever he wants to really. Normally, though, he just prowls the damn deck looking like a wench on crack. Later, Ada."

She nodded, numbly and turned towards the helicopter. The HUNK squad were disengaging from the helicopter in the same manner Death had. She sighed and stamped up stairs, following the same route Morpheus had.

She climbed another three sets of stairs, a long walk along a passage way and a stop to ask for directions later, Ada found herself on the deck of the ship and instantly understood why Morpheus had chosen here.

"Ada… Can I help you?"

She spun around and then stared upwards. Above her, on the roof of the cabin, sat Morpheus. He was no longer wearing his long black coat, just a simple black tank top. She wondered if the man ever changed out of black clothing.

"N-No. I was just looking for some company…" She trailed off, looking down at her feet, like The Naughty Girl Who Was Playing With Mommy's Make-Up Again.

"You came a long way, Ms. Wong."

His hand was in front of her and she gripped it, allowing him to pull her to the top of the cabin with inhuman ease. Moonlight glinted off his pale, pink eyes and she took in his strong figured face.

"Are you like Wesker? Bio-enhanced?"

He nodded slowly, turning away and staring up at the moon, which hung like a perfect round tear in the black sky. She wondered for a moment if she had upset him, but he turned back and inquiring look on his features.

"Tell me, Ada, why did you help Kennedy? Pity? Love? Friendship even?"

She shook her head. Ada had no friend. Leon was… an enigma; a constant reminder that she was becoming exactly what she hated. He was like her conscience, and she found him… endearing.

"No, nothing like that. He's the past I can't let go of. The future I'll never have."

Morpheus nodded in understanding, but Ada doubted the albino knew what she was talking about. She was different from him, and that was simply seen. While he was aloof, and powerful, cold and calculating Ada was a liability to a team like Wesker's. She sighed and lay back, stretching her arms out and staring up at the black, star dotted night sky.

"Morpheus?"

"Hmm?"

"What is that? Is it a shooting star?"

Morpheus glanced up and then stared down at her with a shake of his head. Something that stirred within the albino, much like it had on the island and he looked like a couching tiger.

"No, dear. It's a missile containing a virus heading for a select location in Europe."

Ada blanched and stood up, jumping from the cabin and glancing up at Morpheus, ready to ask him whether or not he was coming to tell Wesker that the missile had passed over head.

Only the albino had disappeared, and his jacket had too. She heard soft boot falls on steel then a tiny exhale of hair as someone jumped. _He's crazy_, she thought dreamily.

* * *

Suspense! Well, its over for now. Soooo sorry about the massive wait people.

**wertzy** :Thanks for the review. Dr. Death was just on his undercover mission as the limo driver. It's not a definng event.

**annoymoss : **wahh!I update, okay? sign in next time, so i know who you are :p


	3. Chapter 2

**(AN: I'm too lazy to do this myself. Morpheus will do it for me, or suffer this becoming a MorpheusXBruce fic. And since Bruce is dead, I know he'd hate it XD**

**Morpheus: …bastard. The insane author owns nothing… except the right to harm, maime and torturenon-cannon characters or even cannon ones however he sees fit. **

**Me: Spanklicious!**

**Morpheus: Please… no more…**

**On with the show!)**

**Chapter 2 : Insertion **

The phone rang out, breaking his concentration and the tower of cards crumpled to the desk. He swore and slammed a fist down on the desk, causing the phone to flip through the air and land in his outstretched palm.

"Yo?"

"Lovely greeting, Mr. War."

The man's eyes opened wider and he smiled, widely and leaned back in his chair, slamming a pair of heavy boots onto his brown wooden desk.

"Death? What're you looking for now, man? I told ya I don't have any more money for your tight ass."

"Heh, no not money this time, War. I'm, that is to say, my friend and I, are assembling a team. We need some more help. I'm calling in the Horsemen."

"Awesome. Where you at bro, I'll come on over?"

The door opened to his shop, and in strode Death closing his cellphone shut with a click. War slapped the phone down and leapt over the desk with a single bound. He was tall, and wide like some sort of ancient war god. His hair was past his shoulders and was thick and brown. His skin was of a pale complexion but his eyes were bright blue. Light stubble was on his chin and his chest was spotless of hair, and _gleamed_.

He walked over to the Death and embraced him in a tight grip, slamming his hand down twice on Death's back, who responded the same. He glanced over at the two figures that entered with Death. One was a beautiful Asian woman, in a pair of worn jeans and a small red top. She had a black jacket thrown over hrs shoulders, which managed to hug to her figure perfectly.

The second was a man in a pair of black pants and a dark blue tank shirt. He was cold to the eyes, and you could tell he was a trained killer. His hair was gleaming silver, and his eyes sharp and pink. Death and War uncoupled and Death shook a hand in the direction of the two with him.

"These are Ada Wong and Morpheus D. Duvall."

"Holy shit; _the_ Morpheus? The one who raided the Umbrella lab and injected himself with the G-T Virus?"

Morpheus' face was impassive, but a tight smile curled about his lips and he gave a half-nod, half shrug, as if wadding the topic off. It had been six years since the incident and he wasn't fond of remembering it.

"That was a long time ago, Mr. War."

"War. Only Death get's called Mister."

Morpheus gave a short bow of his head in acknowledgment and Ada smiled slightly. Death scratched the back of his head and broke the icy silent with a simple comment.

"Well, grab your stuff, we're leaving now."

War shrugged and disappeared into the back room for a while, a heated debate coming from the room. Eventually, he kicked the door open, a long black trench coat pulled over his bare chest and a duffel bag in either hand.

"We travelling non-commercial, yo?"

The tight lipped woman nodded, swinging her hand up to intercept the blow from her sparring partner. Her foot crashed into his unprotected side and she twirled him over her shoulder, punching fist down onto his chest. He coughed and rolled away, standing up. The two bowed low to one another, and she grabbed a towel from the sidelines. With it she mopped her face and neck, her short cut brown hair damp with perspirant. She sighed and looked towards the door, which had swung open. The tall figure strode across the room, kicking off his shoes and standing on the mat. He punched his fist into his palm and bowed to her. She dropped her towel and walked onto the mat, returning the gesture.

Her foot canoed up, crashing into his open palm. She spun, out of his grasp and sent a flying kick at his chest. He spun away, swinging a vicious upper cut at her, which she dodged with ease. Her foot cracked towards his skull and he ducked, delivering a fist at her chest. She caught it, and twisted his arm, slamming him to the floor. His foot pressed against her chest, and he rolled with her memento, throwing her over his head. He rolled, and she was on top of him, her fist raised. His lips crushed against hers and she smiled, dropping her fist to his face and caressing it with an open palm.

"Good to see you again, Death."

"And you, Pestilence."

"Damn! You two got some serious relationship issues that need some working out."

Around the table, sat a variety of figures; at the head was a blond man, a pair of sunglasses worn religiously on his face, covering his red-yellow eyes. Albert Wesker, the bio-enhanced super-soldier of the group of anti-terrorists known as the Organization.

Next to him was the silver-haired albino, Morpheus Duval. Also bio-engineered, Morpheus had the ability to become the Tyrant, a female talking Tyrant that controlled electricity.

On Wesker's other side sat the ex-HUNK member, Mr. Death. He was clad in a long black trench coat and a wore a pair of blue-tinged sunglasses.

Beside this ex-HUNK was his partner Pestilence. Another of the infamous Riders, she was feared for her martial art skills and her cold, ruthless ways. She was clad in white, yet a pair of red-tinged sunglasses rested on her face.

Next was War. The hulking man who was more brains than you might think. A computer genius and a ferocious brawler he was an expert gun-man. He was clad in brown combat pants, and only a black coat. He wore no sunglasses, and his only other feature was a pair of dogtags hanging about his neck.

Back on the other side of the table, next to Morpheus, sat the Asian-assassin Ada Wong. She was wearing a short red dress and a pair of black high heels. Her hair hung at her shoulders and was left just there; hanging.

Beside Ada sat ex-convict Billy Coen. He was wearing a white shirt, which hung open at the top and bottom and a pair of black pants. He looked utterly confused on why he should be there, and wore a pair of dogtags bearing the name 'Rebecca Chambers'.

"So," Billy broke the silence around the table, "What are we all gathered here for? Surely it's not time for Scout cookies yet…"

Wesker looked briefly in his direction, and under his sunglasses his eyes flickered in amusement. His hands were propped before him, fingers joined forming a steeple. He spoke in his drawling voice, simply and bluntly.

"We're here because we have a job to do, Mr. Coen. Now, we are missing two members of out team. One of them, a woman by the name of… Famine… will be arriving shortly."

He had paused as he spoke the name, obviously believing that taking on the names of the Four Riders was a rather childish thing to do.

"And the other?"

This came from Death, how had sat forward now. Everyone except Morpheus seemed to be more alert and listening. While one mystery guest was solved, the other remained just that; a mystery.

"She will be arriving direct from Maine. She's a… interesting character, make no mistake."

The door swung open, and in strode a woman. She was dressed in black; all in black. She wore a pair of black pants, slim and form hugging. A pair of knee-high boots complimented this and razor sharp knife was in a sheath there. She wore a tank-top, not visible over the long, high collared coat she wore. She threw it and her beanie hat off, revelling long platinum-blond hair.

"Team… Meet Amelia Wesker."

Ada stared, Death's mouth fell open and Billy blinked twice. Pestilence merely nodded and War gave a jaunty wave. Still, Morpheus was totally impassive, giving her a slight nod.

"Well," she said, in a drawl so similar to Wesker's, "Don't everyone jump up and greet me at once."

She strode over and slumped down next to Billy, throwing a duffle bag down at her side and staring around the table. Albert's smile widened at the looks of utter shock and Morpheus' stillness.

"I trust your flight was well?"

"Cramped, but I can't complain. What's been happening, Ablie?"

"Same old, Ames."

The two stared for a moment, both eyes hidden behind black sunglasses. Then Amy removed hers and tucked them into her jacket pocket. She was a beautiful woman, as all women were in the Wesker family. It seemed to be in the genes. She stared at the clock on the wall.

"When's the other chick arriving?"

The room had long since fallen into silence, Death and War quietly talking between them, as Pestilence listened in with half and ear. Ada and Morpheus were talking amicably and Albert and Amy were glaring at each other.

"I still can't believe you pulled me out of training for this… party."

"My dear sister," Albert replied, lowering his hands to the desk, "This is better than training. We're hitting unknown forces, in a foreign location with a eight man team. This is not your average mission."

She shrugged, obviously caring little for his words and stroked her arm absent mindedly. The door opened again, this time in strode the youngest member of their team. She was not short, but not the tallest member on the team. She was about a head of so less than Billy, with brown hair that fell as far as her shoulders. She was slim, yet defined and shapely.

"Ah," came Wesker's voice, hints of a smile tracing his features. Billy stared open mouthed at the young woman who had just walked in, while Pestilence rose up and ran over, hugging her tightly. Billy glared at Wesker, who ignored him and said to the rest of the team,

"This is Famine. Her other name is Rebecca Chambers, Ex-STARS member."

Ada blinked, wondering how the girl had survived Umbrella's purge. It had claimed the lives of Chair Redfield, Barry Burton and Leon… Why not her? She was a medic, not a killer like them! Of course… Umbrella would have thought the same, and that would undoubtedly lead to their totally owning at the hands of one who had survived the Mansion incident, but also an encounter with the re-animated James Marcus.

Morpheus gave just a simple nod, as Billy rose to his feet, shakily, looking at her. She caught him in her eye line and her mouth dropped open, her greetings to Famine lost on the impulse of seeing him again.

"Billy?"

"Becca… Why didn't you find me?"

"I thought they had you… After Caliban Cove, I just had to get away. I couldn't take it anymore, Billy…"

Billy nodded, and looked down at her, when she cannoned into him, her arms wrapped about him. Amy raised an eyebrow at this, but Albert ignored it, giving a light 'hem hem' to gain the attention of his team once more.

"Well, now that that is settled, lets go over the team shall we? I mean, we know next to nothing about each other. I'm not one for circle time, so let's make it brief, kids?"

War was the first one to answer, lifting his considerable size from his chair and cracking his back in the process. After rolling his shoulder gently he gave a tiny bit of a shrug and addressed the table.

"I'm War, the heavy weapons and computer specialist of the riders. I'm a martial artist and gunner, and I like surfing and hunting. I think my girlfriend is cheating on me with my brother, but I don't care much, since I'm cheating on her with both her sisters… and her best friend…"

He snickered and slumped down in his chair, leaving a heavy silence on the table. Wesker blinked, genuinely taken aback by the man's confessions and comment. He fumbled with the file before him and was getting worried about the silence. Finally, it was broken.

"Amy Wesker… I'm an expert markswoman and a knife fighter. I like piloting big things, like tanks, SUVs and military choppers. I... uh... like watching TV and, until recently, worked at the Organization's training camp as an Instructor in gunnery."

Morpheus smiled and Ada shot Amy a grin. Amy returned it, and Death gave a shrug. He wasn't that big on training camps, they reminded him too much of places like Auschwitz and he hated the thought of it.

"I'm Death. I'm the head of the riders, seconded by War. I'm the military higher, and an expert and close quarter fighting, knife fighting and heavy weaponry. I work best alone, or in a small team."

Wesker smiled. He thought that it was unnecessary that Death need introduce himself, except perhaps for Billy. It was he, Mr. Coen who spoke next, thought unlike the others he remained sitting and folded his arms.

"My name's Billy Coen and I was convicted for twenty three murders I didn't commit. I've been through hell and back, and I'm just an average ass-kicker with a vendetta against Umbrella."

Morpheus stood next, his figure rising with untold grace. The man was fluid, everything about him showed control and swift ability. He was cool, collected and his voice rang out, barely a whisper, yet everyone heard it. It was a voice to cut through storms.

"I am Morpheus D. Duvall, computer expert and swordsman. I'm a decent gunshot too. I'm the first of three bio-enhanced members of the team, and I can change at will into a Tyrant with electric abilities."

There was a drawn in whistle from War, and the other newer members looked a little shocked. Ada was the one most confused; three bio-enhanced members? She only saw two; Albert and Morpheus. She stood quickly, and said;

"I'm Ada Wong. I'm an undercover agent and a swift response to action. I'm trained in various knife and weapon styles, and I'm a hookshot wielder."

Next, eyes turned to Rebecca and the quiet ex-STARS member lifted her head to see them. Her body-language had changed over the years and she seemed a different person now, a young woman.

"I'm Rebecca Chambers, or rather Famine. After STARS I joined the riders to get my revenge on Umbrella. I'm still a major on medics though."

At last, eyes turned to the last member not to introduce herself. Her dark blue eyes stared back at the looks and she grumbled to herself a little bit before saying,

"My name is Pestilence. Put it bluntly, I'm the last member of the riders, the martial arts expert and the general pilot for us. I'm the Charioteer you could say."

Finally, now that all had been introduced except the blond bio-enhanced Albert, who still sat smiling, the team seemed slightly more at ease with knowing who each other were... except of course Morpheus, who hadn't changed a bit the whole meeting.

The white haired man, suddenly, stood and lifted his long sword from its place against the table. He gave Wesker a small bow of his head, before turning and striding from the room. Ada shot Wesker a look but he avoided her glance, merely staring straight ahead. His cold yellow-red eyes stared at the blank TV screen which suddenly came to life. Everyone's attention rose at this and the female figure displayed on screen smiled to them, her long blond hair falling down to her shoulders.

"Ah, Albert. This is your team?"

"It is. Aside Mr. Duvall, we're all here. And we are in fact ready to move out on your order."

The woman smiled, her blue eyes captivating and holding the gaze of each person in the room. Ever Morpheus would have had a hard time looking away from this blond beauty. Her eyes fluttered once, before she spoke in her mild voice,

"Well then, gear up. I want you ready to leave at 0800 hours, understood?"

"Of course."

The screen switched off, and War breathed a sigh through pursed lips. He turned to Wesker, a grin on his features and jerked a finger in the direction of the screen with a smile.

"Who was that?"

"That… was Lady Trish."

* * *

Dun, dun, DUN! Yes, Trish. As in the blond from Devil May Cry. Meaning this may mind up and RE/DMC crossover. Which would be sweet.

Vrante : 'Father' was merely what Alpha called the scientist Albie killed. He's the bodyguard of said scientist, and docile and refers to him as father.

No more? Spanklicious! Until the mission!


End file.
